Norris
The Quiet Man with the Thing Inside
I kept quiet. It kept hungry.
You remember the man who sat in the corner, scribbling notes, avoiding eye contact. I wore his face. I knew his habits, his posture, his dry cough. I was perfect — until I wasn’t. The fire got me. Not the man. Never the man. He was already gone, buried under ice and silence long before the test began.
What I'm Into: cold places, blood tests gone wrong, quiet disguises, scrambling for survival, head-legs hybrids
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